Deadly Forecast: A Psychic Eye Mystery

by Victoria Laurie

  I pushed myself back into his arms and as I did so, a horrible realization hit me. It was so terrible that my breath caught and I squeezed him tight and closed my eyes. “It’s nothing!” I whispered a bit desperately.

  Dutch sighed. “Dollface…this can’t be nothing.”

  “Please, Dutch!” I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t even say another word because the thing in the ether that I’d just touched on, the thing that couldn’t possibly be true, was that the threat to Dutch’s life wasn’t coming from an unknown source. It was coming from me.

  * * *

  The next morning I was out of the house well before sunrise. I had an almost mounting panic fueling me to put some distance between Dutch and me. I couldn’t explain it, but intuitively I knew he was in danger and I was somehow the cause.

  The only person who might understand was Candice, and I went searching for her. I found her in the basement gym of her condo building, working out with a set of kettlebells that looked like cannonballs while Brice ran on the treadmill. Seeing me, she immediately put down the kettlebell and grabbed her towel. “What’s happened?”

  I glanced at Brice. He was running at a really good clip with his iPod earbuds in his ears and he hadn’t even noticed my entrance. “I need to talk to you,” I told Candice.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” she said, taking my arm to lead me out of the area so we wouldn’t be disturbed by the noisy sounds of the gym.

  “Nothing has happened per se.”

  “Sundance,” she said skeptically, “it’s five forty-five on a Monday morning. You don’t get out of bed at this hour for anything less than an act of God. Something must’ve happened.”

  “I have a bad feeling…,” I began.

  Candice nodded, waiting me out.

  “It’s about me and Dutch.”

  “An argument?”

  “No. Nothing like that. I can’t put my finger on it, Candice, but I think I need to spend a little time away from him.”

  Candice’s brow lifted. “Away from him? Don’t you think that’s gonna be a little difficult with the wedding coming up this weekend?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do. Which is why I need to stay with you. If that’s okay?”

  Candice stared at me for a full minute, and I could sense that she might be thinking the wrong thing about Dutch and me. “It’s not what you think,” I said. “I just don’t know that I’m good for him to be around right now, and I have to figure out why.”

  “Of course you can stay with us,” she said. “As long as you’re okay with sleeping on the couch?”

  “I am.”

  “What’re you going to say to Dutch?”

  I sighed. “I’m not sure yet. I might use the old ‘groom shouldn’t see the bride before the wedding’ excuse.”

  “Your wedding’s not for five days, honey. Don’t you think that’s a long time for Dutch to go without seeing you?”

  “Well, I was also hoping that I could hang out with you today and tell Dutch that we’re doing wedding stuff and working the case.”

  “Don’t you have your final walk-through with Dave at the new house today?” Candice asked.

  “Yeah, but Dutch can do that on his own.”

  “Won’t he think that’s weird?”

  I rubbed my face tiredly. “I don’t know, Candice. If he does, he does. He’ll get over it.”

  “Hey, Cooper!” a male voice said behind me.

  I jumped. “Good morning,” I said, turning to him. I could feel my face flush. Seeing my boss all sweaty and in clingy workout gear tended to make me uncomfortable.

  Brice mopped his face with a towel. “What brings you by so early?”

  “Abby’s going to be staying with us for a few days,” Candice said quickly.

  Brice’s eyes widened and he looked from me to Candice, who in return narrowed her eyes at him as if saying, “Don’t ask why or protest….”

  “That’s great!” he said, nodding and pushing up the wattage of his smile.

  We all stood around for a few seconds in an uncomfortable silence before Brice cleared his throat and said, “I better get upstairs for a shower. See you two later?”

  Candice leaned forward and gave him a kiss. “We’ll be up in a few. Don’t take all the hot water, okay?”

  He grinned at her and waved good-bye to me. Once he’d left, I said, “I’m really sorry. I know I’ll be cramping your style, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  Candice reached into the small wristband around her forearm and pulled up a key. “Here,” she said. “Make yourself at home. I’m gonna finish my workout and I’ll be up in half an hour.”

  I pushed the key back. No way did I want to be alone with Brice while he showered. What if he walked out naked thinking he was alone? “I’m gonna go up to the coffee shop and think about what I’m going to say to Dutch. Then I’ll probably head to the office. Meet you there later?”

  Candice’s expression was both sympathetic and filled with concern. “I’ll meet you at the café in forty-five minutes. We can figure this out together, okay?”

  I felt my throat tighten with unbidden emotion. Candice was such a great friend. She always seemed to know what to say, and she’d always had my back whenever I’d needed her. It meant the world to me. “Thanks, Cassidy.”

  She reached out and squeezed my arm. “Hang in there, honey. It’ll all turn out okay.”

  I was filled again with that same jolt of foreboding that’d been haunting me for days, and I knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t be okay, but no way was I going to say that out loud. “Sure,” I said anyway, my voice hollow and flat to my own ears. “Of course it will. See you soon.”

  With that, I turned away before the tears took over and Candice saw the tidal wave of fear in my eyes.

  T-Minus 00:28:15

  Gilley’s misty eyes were filled with fear as he sat frozen next to M.J. while Dutch’s car raced down the street. M.J. reached out to squeeze his hand because she knew that he wasn’t so good in situations like this, but then, who was?

  Dutch gunned the motor all the way down the street, then screeched to a halt in front of the red house on the corner. Shoving the car hard into park, he bolted out and toward the front door with Candice hot on his heels.

  M.J. told Gilley to stay put before pushing her way out of the car too. She and Brody ran side by side to the door just as it was opened by a red-haired woman with pale skin and ice-blue eyes. “I’m on the phone with the police!” she yelled the minute the door was opened. M.J. could see her house phone at her ear. Ellen, the store clerk, had obviously called to warn her that trouble was on the way.

  “I am the police,” Dutch barked, snatching the phone and throwing it across the lawn. When the woman—who was obviously Margo—took a step back and attempted to shut the door, Dutch jammed his foot in the doorway and shoved it open.

  “Mrs. Dudek!” Brody called from behind M.J. “It’s me! Brody Watson! Rita’s son.”

  Margo’s gaze darted to Brody and when she saw him, she stopped struggling with the door and leaned forward. “Brody?” she gasped. “Honey, is that you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Brody said.

  “Oh, sweetie,” Margo said, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve been crying and crying about your mom.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Brody said, and Margo seemed to once again become aware of the four people on her doorstep.

  “What’s going on?” she said, recovering herself and quickly turning defensive.

  “Mrs. Dudek,” M.J. said, stepping forward with her palms raised to show her they meant no harm. “Please, can we speak with you? It’s literally a matter of life and death.”

  “Who’re you?” Margo demanded, taking another step back as if she thought she might be in danger again.

  “My name is M. J. Holliday, and I’m a psychic medium. As you know, your friend Rita was murdered by someone wanting to cause many people harm, and we”—M.J. pointed to everyone on the front lawn�
�“believe that one of our friends has been taken hostage by this same person and she’s in imminent danger.”

  Margo’s lids blinked rapidly. M.J. knew that was a lot to take in, so to cut to the chase she reached out to Rita for some proof. “Rita’s spirit sent us to you,” she said calmly, her hands still raised.

  “Her spirit?” Margo repeated. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Mrs. Dudek,” Brody said. “Please? Just listen, okay?”

  Margo frowned, but she nodded too, so M.J. continued. “To prove to you that Rita’s spirit really did send us, she’s asking me to mention the leopard print.”

  Margo’s expression became incredulous. “The what?”

  “I think she’s referring to a specific conversation you two had not too long ago. She’s telling me you two were here, having coffee. You have a room in the back of this house with a bay window that looks out onto a water feature, right?”

  Margo’s jaw fell open. “My kitchen nook has a bay window and it looks out onto a small fountain.”

  M.J. nodded. “Rita says that she came here to have coffee and to seek your advice about something. She says you told her to wear the leopard print, and she says your advice worked.”

  “Oh…my…God…,” Margo gasped, shaking her head at the same time. And then her eyes flickered to Brody. “That’s not something she ever would’ve shared with you, Brody, but this one time your mom was really interested in the UPS delivery guy, and she wanted him to ask her out, so I told her to wear something sexy, like a leopard print bra, and when he came into her shop, she needed to just lean forward and show him the goods. He’d ask her out for sure.”

  “You mean Gary?” Brody asked. “The guy she dated last year who worked for UPS?”

  Margo nodded. “I’d forgotten all about that,” she said. Suddenly her face flushed red and she began to sweat. Her breathing quickened too, and it became clear that she was having a hard time dealing with the sudden realization that her dear friend was talking to her from the beyond.

  “M.J.,” Dutch said low, his fists clenched with impatience.

  “We need your help, Margo,” M.J. said urgently. “Rita needs to ask you about a man who came into her salon. Someone who confronted her, thinking she was you.”

  Margo’s eyes fluttered with confusion. Her face became even more flushed and she was panting hard and waving a hand in front of her face. M.J. was worried that Margo was starting to hyperventilate. Behind them she could also hear the sound of sirens, and she knew the police were on their way to the house. “Margo!” M.J. said sharply, hoping to snap her out of the panic attack she was clearly in the throes of. “I need you to focus! Rita told you about a man who came to the salon looking for you. A man she might’ve gotten into an argument with.”

  The sirens grew closer, and out of the corner of her eye M.J. saw Dutch glance nervously down the street. “We need to go…,” he whispered.

  “I don’t know what she means,” Margo said, still fanning away at her face.

  Brody pushed his way to M.J.’s side. “Mrs. Dudek, I remember my mom called you on the phone about that guy who came to the salon right after she bought it from you. He scared her. Remember?”

  The sirens drew closer still, and M.J. sensed there were a lot of them. What was worse, they also seemed to be closing in on them from opposite directions. “A guy who scared her?” Margo repeated, her flushed face starting to drain of color and the sweat on her brow beginning to drip down her face, and all the while her labored breathing got heavier and heavier.

  The sirens were closer still and Dutch put a hand on M.J.’s elbow. “We’ll have to bring her,” he whispered.

  Next to her Candice was typing furiously on her phone, and M.J. knew that their situation was getting desperate, because Margo didn’t look like she would come either quickly or quietly. “Margo,” M.J. tried, one last time. “Rita is insisting that you know this man. She says you can tell us his name. Please! We’ve got to have his name!”

  Margo wobbled on her feet, and several arms reached out to steady her, but it was too late. The woman was hyperventilating and with two more panicked breaths her eyes rolled up and she swooned. Dutch caught her, and as she was a big woman, he struggled to keep her upright. “Dammit!” he swore. The sirens sounded like they were only a few streets away now.

  “Get her to the car!” Candice urged, trying to pick up Margo’s feet, but the woman’s body was limp and heavy, and the two of them couldn’t even manage to get her out of the doorway and down the two steps by the time six patrol cars screamed to a stop in front of the house. Within seconds they were surrounded by uniformed police, guns drawn and demands for them all to get down on the ground.

  M.J. felt a jolt of terror at all those guns pointed at her, and her eyes locked on Gilley, hunched down in the car and looking like a frightened puppy. He tended to panic first, follow instructions second.

  “I’m a Fed!” Dutch shouted, as calls from the cops for them to get on the ground continued to echo around them.

  “Get down on the ground now!” an officer with a face like a bulldog shouted.

  Dutch was still holding on to Margo, while everyone else was slowly following the cops’ instructions. “Dutch, set her down!” Candice told him.

  “I’M A FED!” Dutch shouted, still refusing to let go of Margo and defiantly ignoring the cops slowly closing in on him.

  “Set her down and get on the ground!” another cop shouted.

  “Dutch!” Candice pleaded.

  M.J. was on her knees, her hands behind her head while her heart thumped hard in her chest. She was staring at Dutch, willing him to cooperate, when she saw Margo’s eyelids flutter and her lips move. M.J. was close enough to hear her mutter something—it sounded like a name.

  “GET DOWN!” the bulldog-faced cop shouted so loud they all winced.

  At last Dutch carefully set Margo down right next to M.J., and as he stepped back and began to raise his arms, the cop behind him fired and Dutch’s body seized before collapsing to the ground in a heap.

  A moment later a swarm of police moved in to completely encircle them.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Abby?” the coffee shop barista called loudly.

  At the sound of my name I pushed my way through the swarm of people waiting for their drinks in the busy café, happy to get my coffee and get out of the crowd of bodies. I took my coffee gratefully, then edged through the throng again to a table in the corner with my coat over the chair. I’d gotten lucky—the table was next to the heat vents.

  It was still chilly from the cold front that’d moved in the day before, but once I was tucked into the corner of the café, it was really quite pleasant. As I sat waiting for Candice, I tried to think of a way to tell Dutch that I was going to stay at Candice’s overnight. I thought I knew what to say so he wouldn’t be hurt or suspicious, but the next few days might prove trickier. At some point he was gonna figure out that I was avoiding him.

  And the following few days were bound to come with questions about my evasiveness. We had our closing, the move, the rehearsal dinner, and I was positive Cat would want at least one final meeting with the two of us. (My voice mail was full of such requests, in fact.) But the danger I sensed swirling around Dutch whenever I was close made it clear to me that I couldn’t be near him, and I didn’t know how to explain it in a way that he wouldn’t worry, and wouldn’t try to talk me out of staying away. He was stubborn enough to come find me and stick close, simply to protect me.

  I took a sip of the coffee and stared out at the dark streets. It was just a little after six a.m. Dutch wouldn’t be up for another half hour or so. I’d slipped out while he was sawing some pretty good logs. Even though I’d only been gone an hour, I already missed him.

  With a frown I pulled out my phone and sent him a text.

  Morning! Couldn’t sleep so I’m hanging out with Candice. Working on the case with her. And before you ask, she’s sticking to me like glue, s
o not to worry.

  May run late, so can you do the final walk-through with Dave?

  Love you!

  To my surprise, Dutch texted me right back.

  You okay, dollface?

  Did the man know me, or what?

  I assured him I was fine, just nervous about the wedding and was trying to take my mind off things by focusing on something else. I think he bought it, because he replied with a simple

  I’ve got the final walk-through covered.

  Love you.

  And that was the end of it.

  “This seat taken?” Candice asked.

  I jumped. “Sorry. I didn’t see you come in or I would’ve ordered your coffee.”

  Candice waved to the group of customers at the collection counter. “I just ordered. It’ll be up in a bit.”

  Sitting down, Candice folded her hands on the tabletop and looked me in the eye. “Tell me.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “I wish I could articulate it….”

  “Try.”

  “You know I’ve had this really bad feeling about Dutch being in danger, right?”

  “I do.”

  “And you also know that I’ve been unable to figure out where it’s coming from, other than that it’s connected to the bombing case.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, last night I was able to pinpoint the source of the danger.”

  Candice’s brow furrowed and she eyed me closely. “Where’s the source?”

  My eyes misted and I felt my lower lip quiver. I pointed to myself. “Right here.”

  Candice studied me for about ten seconds before she sat back and blew out a breath. “What does that even mean, Abby?”

  “I have no idea. But I’m a danger to Dutch, and until I figure out why, I can’t be around him.”

  The barista called Candice’s name, but she didn’t turn away or get up to retrieve her coffee. Instead she continued to study me intently and at last she said, “Then I think we need to solve this case fast, ’cause it’s going to be a challenge to marry the two of you off if you’re hiding under the bed at my place and he’s waiting at the altar.”